These Nine Days

These Nine Days - A Sermon Preached on Facebook Live

Easter VII - May 24, 2020

The lectionary lessons can be found here

 

There’s a cartoon making its way around Episcopal circles on Social Media which makes light fun of the Ascension scene which is depicted in the first reading from the Book of Acts. The first panel depicts Jesus saying to his disciples, “Okay, boys. Gotta go. Remember everything I taught you.” 

The second panel depicts the feet of Jesus at the top of the frame while the disciples say, “Bye, boss.” In the third panel, one disciple asks another,  “Wait, what did he teach us?” And, one answers, “Well, it was pretty much to love one another as he and God love us.” 

A third says, “Well, that ought to be easy enough.” In the fourth panel, some very learned looking men in academic robes are making their way up the hill toward them. 

One of the disciples says, “Uh-oh! Here come the theologians.”

Jesus was always breaking things down for us, telling us stories to try to illustrate the point he was trying to make. When you contrast some of the stories of Jesus with the accounts of some of his last earthly prayers as reported in John’sgospel, well, it can get a bit murky if not downright confusing. (John 17:1-11)

Luke’s account in the Book of Acts (Acts 1:6-14) tells a story that makes things much clearer in my mind. 

Some folks who love Jesus don’t pay much attention to the Feast of the Ascension – which was celebrated just this past Thursday. 

Other Christians see it as such a major event in our journey in faith that they take the period of nine days – the time from the Ascension of Jesus until he sends the gift of the Holy Spirit which we celebrate next Sunday as the Feast of the Pentecost – as a time of specially dedicated prayer. 

We read in the first lesson from the Book of Acts (1:6-14) that, after Jesus ascended to heaven, the disciples left the Mt of Olives in Bethany and gathered back in the Upper Room in Jerusalem where they were “constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.”

There are many members of the church here and around the world who are dedicating themselves to a nine-day period of prayer, known as a “novena,” (from ‘novem’ Latin for nine) in anticipation of and preparation for the gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost.

The disciples in that Upper Room were praying for the strength and guidance to figure out how they were going to live out the teachings of Jesus after the crucifixion and resurrection and ascension.   

Many faithful disciples today are praying for the strength and guidance to figure out how it is we are to live in this world in the midst of and after the cataclysmic event of the pandemic. 

How are we going to be the church when we can’t gather in our church buildings? 

And, after the pandemic has passed, how will we reimagine ourselves as Church, as that community of baptized believers who are sent to recreate the world? 

How are we to become what our Prayer Book defines the church as: “the community of the New Covenant,” the “Body of Christ,” “the People of God,” the “New Israel”, a “Holy Nation,” the “New Jerusalem” a “Royal Priesthood,” and the “Pillar and Ground of Truth”? (p 854)

With so many different theologians expressing often wildly diverse theologies, how can we become what we pray in the Creeds: “one, holy, catholic and apostolic”?

Some of you know that one of my favorite ways to pray and meditate is to walk. Something happens when my feet are on the ground and I am in the midst of God’s creation. This is why I love the spiritual discipline of pilgrimage – walking in places where other people have walked, bringing their questions of faith. 

As I walked this week and thought about these nine days, I remembered a conversation I had just last year, while I was on pilgrimage in Scotland. It was the day before I left for the sacred isle of Iona, one of the "thin places" of Celtic spirituality. 

I had been visiting friends in Glasgow and took an Uber back to my hotel room. My Uber driver was a lovely man named Mr. Patel.

Although he was from South India, he spoke with a decided Scottish accent, which I found disconcerting, so I paid even closer attention to him.

This is what I wrote in my journal after I got back to my room.

M.P.: I am Hindi. Our 'big thing' is karma, you know.

Me: I understand. I am Christian. Hmmm . . . I guess our 'big thing' is sin.

M.P. Which is not the same as karma.

Me: Yes, I'm sorry. I made a bad joke.

M.P.: Yes, but it is true. Christians talk a lot about sin, but usually, it is about someone else's sin. Not their sin.

Me: Yes, I'm afraid that's true.

M.P.: If Christians were more concerned about their own sin rather than worry if someone else is sinning, the world would be a better place, you know?

Me: Indeed.

M.P.: And, Ma'am, if you don't mind me saying, I think if Christians stuck with the basics of their religion, and taught the basics of their religion, they would be better Christians.

Me: How do you mean?

M.P.: Stay with the basics: God is Love. Jesus is love incarnate. The Holy Spirit will guide you in Love. Judge not lest ye be judged. Love your neighbor as yourself. When you sin, when you fall short, repent and God will forgive you because God loves you. Forgive as you have been forgiven. And, be thankful. Always. Always. Be thankful. If you have thanks in your heart, you can not help but love others as God loves you. To forgive others as God forgives you. To worry more about your own sin than if someone else is sinning.

Me: You speak such truth it warms my heart and brings tears to my eyes. I think you are a better Christian than I am.

M.P.: Well, I went to Christian school in South India. I know about the teachings of Jesus. But the brothers and sisters who taught me cared more about nourishing my mind and feeding my body and tending my soul than whether or not they could convert me to their beliefs. 

So, my way of life is Hindu and I try to practice the basic teachings of Jesus. He was a good man. A very, very good man. He knew the Ten Commandments and the Sanatana Dharma. You can hear it in the prayer he taught his disciples and the New Commandment he gave them. If some of the people who say they are Christians would actually follow his teachings, well, it would be good. It would be very good.

Me: Hmmmm . . . . Less sin, more Dharma.

M.P.: Ha! I think that would make a good bumper sticker.

Me: Indeed. I'm so glad I came here to Glasgow. I was supposed to go to Edinburgh today. I think part of why I'm here instead is to meet you.

M.P.: I am so grateful that God has put you in my path. I am so grateful to the Christians who gave me an education. You make me think that maybe Christianity has a future.

Me: Well, there are some days when I worry about that.

M.P. Worry less. Be more of who you are, more of the time. Let your light shine. Others will follow. That's how it worked for Jesus, right?

Namaste.

I have come to call that  story "When Jesus met Krishna in an Uber in Glasgow."

If ever there was evidence of the gift of the Spirit, I experienced it while on that Uber ride with Mr. Patel in Glasgow. Indeed, I often wonder if that wasn’t Jesus disguising himself as Mr. Patel.

As we live out the remaining seven of the nine days of this time between the Ascension and Pentecost, I ask you to consider the words of Mr. Patel. It would be well, I think, to consider and meditate and pray how it is we get back to basics of our faith. 

What are the basics of your faith and how are you faithful to them? 

How are you being the church in the world – even without a church building? 

How can you make sure that Christianity has a future? 

How can you be more of who God created you to be? 

How can you let your light shine in the darkness of this time so that others might follow the Light of God and find their own spark of divinity within? 

Because all of it really does come down to this, “Love one another as God and Jesus have loved us so that we all may be one.”

Amen. Or, as my friend Mr. Patel would say, “Namaste.”